


children

by Quecksilver_Eyes



Series: Narnia Musings [51]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen, but doesn't really, in which a mother looks at her children and sees strangers, in which helen gets her children back after the blitz, in which the children come back wild and different and full of steel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24456607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quecksilver_Eyes/pseuds/Quecksilver_Eyes
Summary: The tags are yellowing now | half burnt – torn | and your children don’t slouch | anymore
Relationships: Helen Pevensie & Edmund Pevensie, Helen Pevensie & Lucy Pevensie, Helen Pevensie & Peter Pevensie, Helen Pevensie & Peter Pevensie & Susan Pevensie & Edmund Pevensie & Lucy Pevensie, Helen Pevensie & Susan Pevensie
Series: Narnia Musings [51]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714795
Comments: 8
Kudos: 99





	children

Here’s the thing, dear  
about the children:

We sent them away  
for protection  
for peace  
for their lives and the light in their eyes  
We sent them away  
tear drowned  
and porcelain skinned;  
powerless

The tags are yellowing now  
half burnt – torn  
and your children don’t slouch  
anymore

Helen, my love.  
The children came back different  
with canine teeth  
and eyes like glass  
with silk voices  
and shaking hands

Your children came back wild  
didn’t they?

I know mine did.

Your children came back freezing  
and homesick; bloody.

Didn’t they?

Your youngest sleeps with a dagger under her pillow.  
Your eldest spends days on end in the kitchen, sleepless, restless.  
Your youngest boy can barely stomach sugar – or even your hands in his hair.  
Your eldest girl is all smiles and dresses and careful hands, can you recognise her, still?

Helen, who are these people  
pretending to be your children?

Helen, do you still know  
their eyes  
their smiles  
their night terrors?

Here’s the thing, my dear;  
about the children.  
They came back wild  
and unknown.

_– are you still a mother, my love, if you cannot reach your children? are they still yours, just as they were when you tucked them in your arms and sang them to sleep? my dear. my darling. you sent them away to be protected, folded in between meadows and rivers and forests, so how is it you find daggers in every corner? how is it you find your youngest nestled into the branches of a blooming cherry tree? my dearest, do you still know them, with their tags and their suitcases and their eyes like steel?_


End file.
